Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 158(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“I’m here almost every year, you know that. Sorry we’ve missed each other for lunch the last couple weeks. How you been?”
“Busy but good, good,” he says.
I know he’s bullshitting me; his first season was shit, not because of him but the coach is such a dumb fuck. He still takes responsibility for more than he should, so I let his comment slide. He’s plenty hard enough on himself as it is without me asking a bunch of questions.
“You?” he says after a moment’s pause.
On cloud fucking nine. “Never better. You got a date?”
He’s been as reticent as I am about dating and women. I hate to think I jaded him growing up, but it’s possible.
I went through my share of disasters. Not really relationships. I didn’t have time between trying to be a fit father and building up my security then investment businesses. I told myself I would never bring a woman into Flint’s life unless I was pretty fucking sure she was a keeper.
That’s the thing when the money starts to pile up. You never quite know someone’s agenda, and I found out fast that there’s plenty of good old-fashioned gold diggers still out there. Turned me off in a way I have never been able to undo.
Until Isabel.
He unzips and grumbles. “Nah. Came with some guys from the team. The only girl in the world I want was busy. You?”
My dick hardens again in my hand at the very thought of her. There’s not a goddamned thing I can do about it, either. Pure animal instinct. Pure lust and need.
“Yeah, I did. You should come by and meet her. We’re at table six.”
Flint looks at me in the bank of mirrors. “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit what?”
His eyebrows go up, and the dimple that I hardly ever see pinches his left cheek. “You’ve got it bad for her, don’t you? I can see it on your face, Dad. Why haven’t you spilled on this before now?”
Now I look at myself and lo and fucking behold, I can see it, too. For the first time in ages, the guy in the mirror looks legitimately happy.
I’m this close to actually fucking…glowing? Jesus. I am. I actually am.
“I mean, yeah. And she’s great. You’ll love her.”
“Yeah?” He glances to the side. “But you alright there, chief? Got some low-flow problems?”
He also inherited my sense of humor. But he’s got no fucking clue what I’m up against here. Now my dick is so hard I’m standing here holding my Isabel-induced hard-on, but whatever. Even though I’m only 39, Flint thinks I’m halfway to being an old man already. But I don’t give a fuck if he thinks it’s my prostate. I know the goddamned truth.
And the truth is fucking beautiful.
“Mind your own business,” I grunt, wondering if I’m ever going to get my dick to settle down enough to finish the business at hand.
Flint laughs, shakes off and zips up. “Table six?”
“Yeah. Table six.”
“Sweet. See you later. And whoever she is, enjoy her. Because you deserve it, Dad.”
The door swings shut as he leaves, and I stare into my own eyes.
Do I deserve her? That beautiful woman waiting for me right now?
Fuck. I don’t know. But I’m sure as hell going to try.
Isabel watches me walk across the crowded room, her jaw perched in the curve of her hand, her creamy cleavage pressing tantalizingly against the red velvet of her dress.
What? I mouth to her.
She puckers her lips, sassy and sexy. Then she narrows her eyes, and mouths back, Nothing.
Tell me.
I watch her swallow, the gentle ripple of her throat, the flush of her cheeks. You’re sexy.
I point her way and mouth back, so are you.
Back at the table, I sweep her hair over her shoulder, letting my fingers linger on her bare back. Our usual protocol already broken, I want to push it right up against the wall. “You want a drink, Baby?”
“Yes, please,” she smiles, lighting up my heart. “I’ll come with you.”
“You stay. I’ll get it.”
But she’s not having it. She stands up gracefully, laying the napkin back on the table, velvet shifting down her curves and valleys. I get a good look at her ass, at the way the fabric has crushed against her cheeks, leaving a perfect outline of her body in the fabric.
Once again, she takes my hand in hers. “You think I’m gonna let you walk across this ballroom, looking all dreamy and sexy, with all these cougars everywhere?”
Christ. “Fair point. But I didn’t break the bank to have them with me tonight.”
“Pffft,” she sputters on a giggle. “You didn’t break the bank for me, either.”
“I like to make you think I did. Because I would.”
Her eyes dart up to mine. “I know you would. And thank you.”
“Anything you want, Baby. Anything you need. It’s yours. Even if I have to outbid some asshole to give it to you.”